


Happier

by Hanayou343



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Fix-It, M/M, Peter has it a little more together, i guess?, mostly Juno is an idiot tbh, post final resting place, they're still idiots but they communicate more, which I realize now may be out of character, whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 12:38:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10465218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hanayou343/pseuds/Hanayou343
Summary: He grins at me, and it’s as distracting as ever with the smell of his cologne enveloping me. Somewhere in the back of my mind I know I shouldn’t be surprised to see him,  but he always was unexpected.---Or, In which the author projects emotional insecurities onto fictional characters and tries to make the ending of Final Resting Place a little more okay.





	

     The job was unusual, but nothing unheard of; there were rumors of someone stealing some famous necklace a collector had bought, and the man had hired Juno Steel to play security guard. For the life of me, I can’t guess why he would pick out me specifically, but he was paying well and god knows I need the cash, so I’d elected for once to not look a gift horse in the mouth. I'm mentally kicking myself in the teeth for that particular choice, right about now.

     I feel, somehow, that I should’ve expected something like this; Peter Nureyev, standing in front of me, not looking nearly as surprised to see me as I am to see him. He grins at me, and it’s as distracting as ever with the smell of his cologne enveloping me. Somewhere in the back of my mind I know I shouldn’t be surprised to see him, but he always was unexpected.

     “Ah, detective! How lovely to see you, and what a surprise!” I doubt that, though I'm not certain why. I myself hadn’t known I would be here, now, until yesterday, and it must have taken him far longer than that to plan the heist. I figure he probably heard about me being there and decided to come anyway. (I ruthlessly squash the tremulous, traitorous thought that he might have come here because of me as utterly illogical.) Somehow he’s already got the necklace in hand, and I know that if I turn around the case will be empty. (I also silence the voice that says that he has no reason to be talking to me unless he wants to; he has every reason to want to avoid me, after I left like that. His escape route must be through my line of sight, that’s definitely why this is happening.) I'm drawn back out of my thoughts when he continues, “I must say, the glass eye is quite the fashion statement, though of course I wish you still had the original. I rather took you for an eyepatch sort of person--but you always did surprise me, Juno.”

     He had turned his face so that he was looking somewhere over his left shoulder, into the nebulous shadows in the corner of the room, but he turns again as he speaks now, looking me right in the eye. Singular. It’s a bit of a sore point. “Though really dear, some surprises seem in poor taste. Waking up to find you gone, for instance.” I ignore the twinge that sentence sends through me to the best of my ability, just as I’ve been ignoring how relieved I am to see that he’s okay. I definitely did not worry about him, no matter what Rita would say. (Rita has a lot to say on the subject of my love life, it turns out, once she’s bullied the story out of me.)

     I open my mouth to say something--snappish, I guess, I'm not sure what. Probably something to make him angry, something to drive him away again. Something to show him that I'm every bit as destructive and toxic as I see myself, to make him understand that any happy ending involving me just won’t work out. He holds up a hand, though, with a quick and surprisingly biting, “I’m not finished, Juno Steel. I can’t say I was pleased to find that you’d gone without a note, without so much as a goodbye, but I think I understand why you couldn’t leave. Why you couldn’t come with me. I’m not a stationary creature, you know that, but believe it or not I can see what’s right in front of me, and that is that Hyperion City is your home. It’s where you feel you belong.” He’s only half right, but I'm hardly going to explain the rest. It gets… difficult, explaining things, where emotions are involved. As soon as you say them out loud everything gets muddled and twisted, and makes less sense than it does in your head. It’s best to keep things like that where they make some sort of sense. “So I can understand why you left, Juno, and I can forgive you for that in itself; what I cannot make heads nor tails of is the fact that you stayed as long as you did.”

     Anything I may have said in response to his “forgiveness” was brought up short by that question. Wasn’t that perfectly clear? Some of my confusion must have shown on my face, because he sighed and clarified. “I mean, darling, why didn’t you say before that you didn’t want to leave? Why couldn’t you have said something when we were discussing plans for the future? I clearly don’t know where your head was at the time, but I’m certain we could have worked something out. I’d have been more than willing, personally. So why stay silent? Why pretend to go along with it, then sneak out while I’m asleep?”

     Huh. He actually had a pretty reasonable question. I know he’s not going to leave until I answer, and it just feels wrong to try to arrest him now, so I choose my words carefully as I think out a response. I try not to hope that maybe, just maybe, he’d be willing to try again, a compromise like he just suggested. I tell myself he’s only speaking to me for closure. It makes sense. I realize then that I need to actually respond verbally at some point, and Nureyev is nearly starting to look concerned that I haven’t spoken one word so far. I open my mouth and fix that problem. “Look, Nureyev, I don’t think--fuck. This is hard. I don’t think it takes a genius to figure out that between me knowing I couldn’t leave, and you saying you’d never come back one way or another, it wasn’t gonna end especially well for either of us. So I… I figured life could wait. Just for one night. I just wanted to be with you, for that night, and I wanted to pretend that I could be with you for the rest of my life. Let’s be real, if I’d said ‘oh, no, Peter, I can’t possibly go; I belong here, on Mars, where you have vowed to never return!’ we wouldn’t have had such a pleasant night, would we? It’d be awkward, both of us dancing around the knowledge that it was our last, neither of us willing to make it any harder than it had to be. You’d have gone to the hotel, I’d have gone to my apartment, neither of us would be happy. This way… at least we had that night. At least we had something.”

     I'm not sure what I expected his reaction to be--understanding, pity, resigned disappointment? Wistful, maybe. Maybe even bitter humor--something negative, certainly, somehow with melancholy as the general flavour, I predicted. What I did not see coming was anger. “Juno Steel,” He said, his voice very carefully even, “Do you mean to tell me that you took me at my word so entirely that you did not even consider the possibility that you might have been enough to change my mind?” He huffs out a laugh, coming closer to your initial prediction, though still with a definite undercurrent of fury. “I can hardly believe you, Juno. First you can’t trust me at all, then you believe me so entirely that you fabulously misunderstand my priorities.”

     I barely have time to ask “And what priorities exactly--” Before he’s stepped forward, towards me, and I take a step backwards on reflex. He seems faintly disappointed, but covers it neatly even as he interrupts me.

     “My first priority is you, you incredible, wonderful idiot, and I apologize deeply that I apparently have not made that clear enough. You are my priority, and I suspect always will be.”

     There are a tense, emotionally charged few seconds of silence as I attempt to wrap my brain around what he’s saying. It doesn’t quite register; seems fake, but alright. Eventually he sighs, glances around, and says, “You know, Juno, if you want me to go I certainly can, though I feel the fact that you haven’t yet broken out the handcuffs says something to the opposite effect.” I’m slightly ashamed to realize that I’ve had a dozen chances to arrest him, minimum, and have barely even considered the possibility in favor of talking over our relationship problems like an old married couple.

     “Well, Nureyev, I know for a fact I’m going to have to ask you to hand over the necklace.” He produces it from one of his endless pockets, smirking like he knows he’s won a battle the other participant didn’t even know was being fought. A thief’s smile. I wished it wasn’t as distracting as it was. He holds the jewelry where I can see it, glinting in the low light just like his teeth, but makes no move to give it to me.

     “And then, detective? Are you going to turn me in?” We both know he could be out almost as soon as he’s taken into custody if I do. I’m also fairly certain at this point that he’s open to negotiations. I decide to take a risk.

     “I’m not sure yet. I think, maybe, I’ll need to keep you for a while--just to keep an eye on you, you understand. To make sure you stay out of trouble.” He’s grinning again, and I can see for sure, for the first time tonight, that it’s all Peter Nureyev. No masks or other personas in sight. Something inside me relaxes at the realization, something I hadn’t realized was tense in the first place. “Of course,” I continue, and I couldn’t stop if I wanted to, but god, do I not want to. “I can’t leave my job here--that would be bad business. I’ve got to stay here for the rest of the night.” It’s an invitation and an excuse to leave wrapped up in one, and I’m instantly glad when he understands. Even more so when he says yes.

     “My dear detective,” he purrs, his voice low and irresistible, “we can’t have you sitting here lonely all night. And of course, you’d better keep an eye on me or who knows what might happen?”

     I’m utterly distracted for the rest of the night, to the point where I almost don’t notice that he still hasn’t put the necklace back. I very well may have let it slide, if it hadn’t been for the fact that my paycheck depended upon the necklace still being in the collector’s possession when the sun came up. Dawn came eventually, and Nureyev had to slip back out or face the uncomfortable questions and probable arrest that would follow his being in the room when only I had entered the previous evening.

     There are few things more gratifying than the way I felt when I walked into my office after cashing my check to find him leaning against my desk, waiting for me to come back. Maybe he wouldn’t always be around--he was born to wander, and he’d get restless after not too long--but maybe he’d be there often enough. I hoped so. I actually let myself hope that, just this once, something might go right for me.

     On the whole, looking back, I’m glad I took that chance.

**Author's Note:**

> I've seen a lot of people write about why Juno left, but I don't think anyone questioned why he stayed as long as he did. Maybe it was too obvious, or maybe it seemed like he made up his mind in the hotel room, but to me, the question needed to be addressed. Unbeta'd, feel free to point out any mistakes I missed. I figure I'll go ahead and post it now, before the new episode comes out and (probably) gives us something completely different.


End file.
